Sleepwalking
by megan.daisy.9
Summary: Ryan De Santa, a 14 year-old teenager on the autistic spectrum, has struggled to cope with a deteriorating family unit screaming at each other and being bullied for her condition at high school doesn't help. But what happens when a series of events force her and Michael to confront the past ... starting with the sudden reappearance of her father, Trevor?
1. Chapter 1: Prologue - Complications

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone, and welcome to a little project I'm conjuring up called Sleepwalking. This is basically an AU of Grand Theft Auto V with an original character named Ryan thrown into the mix. She is Trevor's daughter and whilst she may be introverted, I hope you all like her. :) Also, apologies if the characters are OOC because this is my first time writing for the GTA Universe. I will admit, I'm a tad nervous because of that too. :(**

**Anyway, feel free to leave your thoughts in a review and I hope you all enjoy Chapter 1! :)**

**Plot Summary:**

**Ryan, a 14 year-old teenager on the autistic spectrum, has struggled to cope with a deteriorating family unit screaming at each other and being bullied for her condition at high school doesn't help. But what happens when a series of events force her and Michael to confront the past ... starting with the sudden reappearance of her father, Trevor?**

**Ryan's Appearance:** **megandaisy9/art/Ryan-Phillips-OC-Grand-Theft-Auto-V-826177705**

**Ryan's Voice: Ashley Johnson.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Grand Theft Auto, Saints Row, Sonic the Hedgehog, Marvel or DC. All rights go to the original owners.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: Prologue - Complications**

Hello friend. _Hello friend_, that... that doesn't feel right. Do you want a different name? That's a slippery slope though, because we have to remember that you're in my head. _B*gger_, I can't believe I'm about to tell you my story...!

I never really told you much about myself, did I? Well to start with, people saw me as your average geeky nerd. But I'm actually not, because I'm on the autistic spectrum and I suffer from social anxiety. This affects how I function in everyday life, such as socialising and building a connection with people. Sure, some of the kids in school gave me a chance and I gladly took every one. But...they didn't work out, they never did and that's made my anxiety worse over the years.

_Well, at least I have my family to help me cope. Initially, they were fixated on winning their screaming matches, but... they're okay now._

On a different note, everyone has media productions, topics and people that they are interested in; favourite movie, television show or cute band, you get the idea. My interests were similar, but they were _a lot _different than the stereotypical teenager's interests. Since I was 9 years old, I've been a huge fan of Sonic the Hedgehog. I've played the games I was able to get my hands on, I watched some of the television shows and I bought the merchandise that I could. My bedroom's walls are covered in video game posters and my childhood plush toys of the characters helped me calm down whenever I had an anxiety attack because of bullying. I also have a little lapis ring which was a gift on my 13th birthday and that helped soothe my anxiety too...

So, feel free to grab a snack and settle in. Because I'm about to tell you some of the events that occurred, seven years back. I was 14 years old, attending high school in Los Santos and trying my best to be... pretty much the light at the end of the tunnel for my family.

_But I had no idea what was around the corner..._

...

**_(Tuesday, September 17, 2013 - De Santa Residence in Rockford Hills, Los Santos, San Andreas, USA...)_**

"Just cause you got a massive gaper, b*tch,"

"You f*cking homo, you're dead! Dad! He said I have a massive... Jimmy called me _a b*tch!_"

"He tried to knife attack me! No one creeps on the J-Dog, my n*ggas!"

_Oh for god's sake._

This is what I've had to live with since I was 5 years old. My family was one hell of a lively bunch, you might say. I'm the youngest of three kids; the other two are Tracey and Jimmy. The former is pretty much my polar opposite, both appearance and personality wise. Her blue eyes are more brighter than my brown ones and her oval face is clear unlike my combination of spots, moles and freckles. The final two contrasts involved her blond hair remaining perfect unlike my messy dark hair and her pink bikinis giving off a more approachable vibe unlike my blue plaid shirts. But despite the major differences between us, I'd say she's the first one who I'm closest to. Then, there's Jimmy. A once friendly blond-haired and blue eyed kid turned into an obese and lazy ginger-haired whiner who did _nothing_ except play Righteous Slaughter 7 and shout _very inappropriate_ insults at his fellow gamers ... but on the plus side, there's still a hint of the good hearted kid still in him.

And finally, there's Michael and Amanda. The latter was the closest I had to a mother, but Michael on the other hand... he's the one I got along with the least sadly. Why? Because whilst he did try to behave kindly during our conversations, he mostly spends his time lounging by the pool, bringing girls home and drinking. Not only that, but he couldn't even _look_ at me and he didn't bother to tell me why whenever I asked him about it!

_At the time, it really hurt and I thought I must have done something wrong for him not to acknowledge me. Anyhow..._

I was in the middle of getting ready for the day ahead when Tracey was ratting Jimmy out for insulting her. My bedroom's walls were painted in a light-blue color and draped in posters from my favourite video-game franchises, accompanied by numerous pictures from my life. I also had an acoustic guitar, a small white bookshelf and a set of drawers sitting on the left side of my room, accompanied by a black television set and Playstation 3 console. Dark-blue fabric coated the floor whilst a ray of lights streaming up from my bed and accompanying my Polaroid photo collection on a rack pinned on the wall ahead of it, somehow making the entire room appear as an inviting location.

Once I climbed out of bed, I decided to tie my hair back in a ponytail with bangs framing my face. I then stripped out of my grey Sonic t-shirt and colored bottoms into an outfit which consisted of a grey camo shirt, an orange plaid shirt, blue jeans tightened by a black belt and a pair of black-grey boots. After slipping on a lapis ring on my right ring finger, I took my iPhone and Sonic headphones from the set of drawers, placing them inside my brown rucksack which had a adorable classic Sonic key ring attached. Upon zipping it up, I grabbed it by one of the straps and exited my bedroom for the mansion's first floor, mentally preparing myself for a possible tyraid of screaming.

I felt a mixture of emotions about today, mainly excitement and anxiety for a number of reasons. Firstly, by the tug of an analog stick, I went from a tiny 25-week old premature baby to an 14 year-old introverted nerd. _My family must be experiencing the whirlwind of emotions I am, given what went down at the time._

You're probably wondering why I'm feeling nervous as well. Well to put it simply, I unfortunately had to spend my birthday at high school, which is pretty much the best setting for teenage drama. _Ugh... _People would often think of me as anti-social because of my autism, but the truth was that I was shy. _Painfully_ shy. I told myself many times to be more outgoing and I would try to approach a stranger and strike up a pleasant conversation. But due to the mistreatment I endured throughout my life, it wouldn't work as I was often teased for being "weird" and "uncool".

_One day it will though, I'm sure of it._

As I turned a left and ventured straight for the kitchen, I couldn't help but notice Amanda, who was dressed in her purple and white jacket and skirt, enter the house with a man simply clad in white overalls. _I see Amanda's still at it with playing tennis. Nice._

"Thank you, coach!"

"You're welcome as always," Kyle replied cheerfully, embracing her in an almost... _loving manner? Oh god._ "Same time, tonight?"

"Of course, I look forward to it," My surrogate mom answered happily, both of them _completely oblivious_ to me standing behind them.

"I'll look forward to it more," The tennis coach told her, before turning to leave and walking past me. "Morning, Ryan!"

"Morning?" I greeted back politely, feeling dumbstruck. _What the hell was that?!_

As soon as he left, I turned back round and raised an eyebrow. "Wow, I see you two are getting along nicely,"

_When you shouldn't be, because you're still bl**dy married - even though this could be a perfect opportunity to finalise a divorce and for us to bail from Michael._

"It's not what you think, Ryan," My surrogate mom told me calmly. _Tch, really?_ "And unlike Michael, he actually _listens_ to me and he respects me, okay?"

"Okay, I wasn't trying to start a fight, don't worry," I reassured her, smiling. "I was just making an observation,"

"I know, sweetheart," Amanda replied, happily following up with "Anyway, Happy 14th Birthday!"

"Thank you!" I giggled, peeling my backpack off and placing it by the kitchen's entrance before walking in to make lunch. _Tracey's gonna glomp me any minute now, I know it. _"I... I take it Tracey and Michael are out?"

"Tracey's just outside by the pool and who knows where the hell Michael is," My surrogate mom answered. "Is there anything you'd like to do later to celebrate?"

"I thought you were planning to have a tennis lesson?" I questioned with confusion as I didn't want to interfere with plans. _Old habit, don't ask._

"I can always reschedule," Amanda reassured me, smiling.

"O-Okay," I briefly stammered with surprise. _These pleasant moments were quite rare, so I always got caught off guard whenever they happened. _"I... What do you think about us having a girl's night out with Tracey?"

"That sounds lovely," Mom commented happily. Her smile then faded into a concerned look as she continued addressing me. "How are you feeling about today though, considering you're going to be at school?"

"I'm..." I began, finding myself trailing off for two seconds as I struggled to calm my nerves. "I'm nervous because there's the students I had to deal with every day. I know we've talked to the tutors before and that they've told them to stop harassing me, but ... they just wouldn't!"

Mom's worried look quickly changed into a reassuring one. "I wouldn't worry too much. You've been doing amazing so far and if you get targeted again, forget about them. You just focus on getting through your studies and you'll be home before you know it," My mother's smile then morphed back into concern. "Talk to someone if you start to... feel _that _urge again too, okay?"

_Yeaah, about that. Because of the constant screaming that occurred in our family unit and Michael barely acknowledging me for an unknown reason, __... I've developed a case of self-loathing which... I took out on myself... My mother and sister were the only ones who knew my reason for doing it and since then, they both tried to make home life a tad better, which I really appreciated._

_To be honest, I felt like I was about to go over the brink because of the problems we had. What the hell caused everything to go downhill too?!_

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," I affirmed, forcing a brave grin on my face.

Before Amanda could respond, the doors to the outside pool opened and before I knew it, my older sister excitedly glomped me from behind and exclaimed "Happy Birthday, Rhino!"

"Thank you!" I laughed after letting out a slight squeal, ignoring the pain that angrily throbbed upon impact and eagerly returning her hug. "How are you doing?"

"I'm a lot better now after our *sshole of a brother insulted me,"

"W-What happened, Tracey?" Mom asked with concern.

"Oh, nothing much," My sister scoffed sarcastically. "Jimmy just simply gave me the finger and told me that I had a massive _gaper_,"

"Right," Amanda took charge, feeling just as disgusted as I did. "I'm gonna have a word with him after you both go and we need to make it clear to the boys that they've got problems to sort out,"

_What about us?_

"How are we going to do that easily?" I questioned worriedly. "Considering what the pair of them are like?"

Hearing this, my mother and sister both shared a concerned look and that was all I needed. _They don't know, yet. Okay. _Afterwards, the conversation thankfully became more positive and breakfast and lunch was sorted, off Tracey and I went.

_Okay, shortly I'll be thrown into the hell that is high school. Here's hoping that today will be great..._


	2. Chapter 2: High School - Father & Son

**Chapter 2: High School - Father & Son**

**_(Los Santos Junior High, Richman, Los Santos, San Andreas...)_**

"Bye Rhino, love you!"

"Love you too, Trace!"

I waved at my older sister as I watched her drive back to our house. Back then, neither of us didn't understand why Michael was _so_ desperate to move to Los Santos, but he essentially saw it as living the Vinewood dream; gigantic fancy mansion and running into famous celebrities on the streets. The only positive aspect for me was getting to visit the Vinewood Sign one particular weekend, but the fancy mansion... was kinda boring. I preferred pre-Los Santos where we all lived in a trailer park on the outskirts of North Yankton and got along a lot better than we did in 2013. I didn't remember much, but one memory which kept coming back involved someone who ... bore a strong resemblance t—

_Okay, enough about the past, Ryan._

Shaking the thoughts away, I walked up to the front entrance and pressed the button which made the large glass doors slide open. Just as most high schools are, Los Santos Junior High was _massive_. There were wide open spaces such as the canteen and library, along small and medium sized spaces which happen to be the classrooms in one huge white building with five floors. Bonus points go to the sports area outside for our team, the LS Tigers. _They're basically the stereotypical cute basket ball players who the girls fawn over... Pfft. _Walking into my school, I took in my surroundings and couldn't help but notice that I was the only one here. _Huh, maybe I arrived too early?_

The reception area had a very large space with the walls painted in white and the floor's tiles painted in a silver-grey colour. On my left, there was a long hallway with its' right side crowded with blue lockers and travelling down to the very end and turning left whilst on my right, there was a small area filled with two grey sofas and a white table. There was also a grey staircase travelling up to the second floor and behind it, was a pathway leading down to the toilets and elevator.

A few metres away from me was another sofa-filled area and a large white desk, filled with notebooks and leaflets about the school. After collecting my class' register from a light-grey set of shelves near the desk, I walked through the hallway and just before I reached my locker at the end, I decided to sneak a quick glance through the glass windows on my left at the city outside. The sounds of cars driving past vaguely greeted my ears, influencing me to ponder on how my fourteen years of existence went.

Every day at school went like this; I travel there, collect the register, go to my classroom, try my best to get through the day whilst enduring mistreatment from my peers and head home at 4:30. I'd witness screaming matches between my parents and siblings whilst holding the _ever increasing_ stress of being the light at the end of the tunnel back for them. Now, you're probably wondering - why doesn't Amanda divorce him and then she, Tracey, Jimmy and I can bail? Trust me, I've wondered the same thing and I swore that if the fights ever escalated, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from yelling that question.

_When is the nightmare's going to bl**dy stop?!_

It was a bit of a long journey to my classroom, which occasionally got on my nerves due to the number of stairs I had to ascend. But sometimes it's nice to explore our surroundings. After passing the main hall which had two white doors serving as its' entrance, I walked past a cafe and was faced with two paths branching left and right.

Venturing towards the path on the right, I walked down yet another long hallway. _This place sure does love long staircases and hallways... _But on the bright side, my journey was also a chance for me to dive into my thoughts. One of them involved what it would be like to see Team Sonic in person. I mean, a set of characters from a video game franchise living among us and travelling over the world during their adventures, which we get to see in their games. How cool would that be?! I couldn't help but smile as I imagined myself actually communicating with them; they would understand my condition and we would all just hang out. But unfortunately, that would never happen.

_Well hey, we can always dream right?_

As I neared the end, I turned left and stopped at the long staircase that stood a few metres away. My classroom was all the way up on the fifth floor, so I had to ascend four staircases in order to reach it. _This is gonna be all kinds of fun..._

"Ugh, here we go," I sighed with slight annoyance as I began to make my way up.

I eventually reached the fifth floor and I was shortly joined by three students whom I politely held the door open for. Two of them seemed to be absorbed in their conversation but one of them gave me a small smile as she and her mates walked past. _Oh..._

"Thanks," The girl said politely, sending an apologetic look in my direction when her two mates didn't respond.

"You're welcome," I replied with a quick reassuring glance as I followed them into the hallway leading to our class.

_I... I can't say I was expecting that...!_

…

_A child with autism is not ignoring you. They are simply waiting for you to enter their world._

That's one example of my favourite quotes which I found online, because it describes the other children out there who have autism and myself perfectly. We may be different, but what we have is one of many things that makes us who we are and we should be seen for us. If people could do that instead of tossing us to one side, then...

_Life would be a million times better, it really would._

My first lesson on today's list happened to be Communications Class with Miss Mason. She's one of the two staff members who treat me kindly and whilst she does have the tendency to be a tad _too _tough (which I admire - because _yes, Queen!_), she's a really nice woman with a sarcastic sense of humour. The classroom was just like any other with your typical chairs, desks, white board and colorful images plastered over the walls - but the one pro was this stack of brown bags which stood near our tutor's desk. These were compliment bags and a student would write something on a piece of paper to place in another student's bag for them to see.

_The possibility of getting one would make my day._

As I followed the group of girls into a very chatty classroom, I made a quick detour towards Miss Mason's desk and placed the register down, before walking back to my desk at the very back and taking my rucksack off. Once I set it at my feet and sat down, I pulled off my plaid shirt, laid it behind me on my chair and opened my rucksack to place my Sonic pencil case, journal, headphones and iPhone on my desk. _At least we've got some time to kill. I may as well vent in my journal for a bit. _With that in mind, I opened up my journal for the next clean page and began writing.

"Hi everyone," A brown-haired and blue eyed woman in her early thirties, clad in her blue tomboyish fall get-up, soon entered the room with a grin and ventured to sit at her desk. _Miss Mason! _"How are you all doing?"

"We're doing well, thank you," I replied happily as I closed my journal. "How was—"

"How was Summer?" A girl intentionally interrupted, quickly sending a smug grin in my direction before she turned her back on me.

I sighed with annoyance. Just like any high school, we have the batch of stereotypical Mean Girls who fawn over the Jocks and go out with them. This girl in particular was no exception and she was pretty much the Queen of our school. If you put the two of us together, there would be major contrasts appearance-wise, because she was _way more _beautiful than I'd ever be. Her blue eyes were more brighter than my green ones and her oval face was clear unlike my combination of spots, moles and freckles. The final contrast involved her blond hair remaining perfect unlike my messy dark hair. The girl's outfit, which involved the girly cashmere, also contributed to how approachable she seemed.

"_Amber,_" Miss Mason warned. "Ryan was kindly asking me a question. Please don't interrupt,"

Hearing this, Amber scoffed hatefully. "Why should I have to treat that freak with the disease nicely?!"

The rest of the class, except for the girl who thanked me earlier, exclaimed a shocked and intrigued: "_Oooooh!_" whilst I glowered at them. That visibly _stung_ … but there comes a time where you become used to being hurt. _So, go on ahead kids. You're all doing a great job with making me feel horrible, why stop now?!_

Our tutor glanced at me with concern, before she addressed my bully fiercely. "Am I going to have to suspend you on the first day back?"

"I'm sorry, did you _just threaten me?!_" Amber glowered. _She knows she's gonna get it, doesn't she?_

"I don't know," Miss Mason snarkily shot back with a glare. "_Maybe _I did," And cue the professional smile. "Or maybe I didn't,"

_Oooooooh!_

Our tutor's remark shut everyone up, and she addressed me again. "You were asking me a question, Ryan?"

"Y-Yes," I stammered shyly. "I was going to ask how the Summer holidays went,"

"They went well, thank you," The woman answered with a smile. "Yourselves?"

The girl who thanked me and I both responded in the affirmative and our tutor acknowledged us positively, before she began the first lesson of the day.

_That was one hell of a start. Whew!_


	3. Chapter 3: Teenage Bullying - Chop

**Chapter 3: Teenage Bullying - Chop**

It was now break and as per bl**dy usual, the cafeteria was _packed _with noisy students. The area had a decently wide space with a purple wall and a white marbel floor; the right side accompanied by a green carpet and a set of metal tables and chairs. The left side of the café was home to a wooden set of the former, whilst the checkout contained a tiny shelf with multiple sweets to buy and behind it stood all of the equipment needed for the two staff members to make hot drinks. A tall makeshift oven housing cooked meals was placed next to it and the next three spaces belonged to a shelf containing snacks and two fridges belonging to sandwiches and cold drinks.

I stood near the entrance, waiting for Jimmy to answer my phone call as I didn't get the chance to speak with him earlier. _Please don't tell me you're playing Righteous Slaughter again._

But to my surprise, it didn't take him very long to answer. "_Hello?_"

"Hey Jimmy!" I greeted cheerfully.

"_Oh, what's up Rhino?_" He replied in a pleased manner. "_By the way, __Happy Birthday! Sorry we didn't get to talk before you left this morning,_"

"Don't worry about it, it's okay," I reassured him. "And to answer your question, I just thought I'd check in as usual. How's everything at home?"

"_I-It's not too great,_" Jimmy revealed nervously. _Oh god, what the bl**dy hell's happened now?_ "_You know that big yacht Michael has?_"

"Yeah?"

"_Well, I tried selling it because I needed money,_" My older brother began explaining in a panicked frenzy. "_And the sellers hjacked it and drove down the western highway with me inside! Michael and this guy, Franklin, came to get me and all Dad gave a sh*t about was his f*cking boat!_"

_What?!_

"_W-Wha_, he wasn't worried about you?!" I demanded with horror, feeling bad for my poor bro.

"_No, he wasn't!_" Jimmy answered sadly. "_And I get that I f*cked up, but it's... it's like ever since we moved to Los Santos, he hates all of us! Have you ever thought that?_"

"I have, actually, yes," I answered, equally saddened. "I don't know if you've ever noticed, but... sometimes Michael won't even _look_ at me and I don't understand why that is. I'm sorry that you feel that he hates you,"

"_I'm sorry too,_" My older brother responded sympathetically, before changing the subject with "_I better go as well, Righteous Slaughter's calling me,_"

Hearing this, I held back an annoyed sigh. _Of course, he'd be on his game. _"Okay, no problem. See you later, Jimmy,"

"_Bye Ryan,_"

As soon as the conversation ended, I shook my head with a grin as I placed my phone into my backpack. _Classic Jimmy, always playing video games. But at least he has the decency to respond to my messages like Tracey and Amanda ar—_

"Who were you talking to?"

Turning round, I found myself facing Amber who bore a sickeningly sweet smile, despite the hateful fire brewing in her eyes. _Oh, for god's sake! Okay..., just be cool. Play along and see what she wants. You're gonna be okay, Ryan... _"Why do you want to know?"

"Just making conversation," The girl answered in a mockingly friendly manner. "_So?_"

"Isn't it impolite to ask?" I shot back calmly. _You look like you're after something, so what is it?_

Hearing this, Amber smiled. "Okay, you got me. I just have some advice for you,"

_Oh god..._

"I think you should try and wear a bit of make up, because it would make you look better," The girl insulted me kindly. "Maybe you could cut down the weight and spice up your hair and those messy clothes of yours', whilst you're at it? Nerds with fake diseases aren't tolerated here, you know,"

_Excuse me?!_

I'll be honest - if Amber hadn't had made it clear that she was insulting me, I wouldn't have understood what she was implying with her 'girl to girl advice'. But it stung _a lot, _and she knew it. Words couldn't describe how hurt I was and how much I wanted to rip into her for the bullying - though at the same time, I knew I had no chance if I did. She'd go spreading horrible rumors about me and everyone would be on her side, instead of using their brains for once and supporting me.

_Argh, how the hell do I get outta this?! ... Okay, keep calm. Just get Amber to p*ss off back to her gals and find Miss Mason. Go._

Bearing this in mind, I responded with a sarcastic scoff. "Great advice there and in case you're wondering, I'm perfectly fine with being a nerd and how I look. See you in class,"

With that, I calmly left the cafeteria and began walking back to the classroom I worked in earlier, despite having to fight back tears. _Okay, I like to think I handled that decently - just need to get myself together and find Miss Mas—_

"_Hey!_"

_Oh god...!_

"Did you just insult me, you ret*rded b*tch?!" Amber demanded furiously, storming after me. _F****ck! Ignore her and keep walking, she just wants attention! _"Ryan! Hey, I'm talking to you!"

_And I'm ignoring you, go find attention somewhere else!_

Fighting my rapidly growing anxiety, I kept on walking - which p*ssed off my attention-seeking bully even more. _Find Miss Mason, Ryan. If she's not in the classroom, think of where else she could be. You're gonna be oka—_

My air supply was suddenly cut off by Amber violently wrapping an arm around my throat and viciously dragging me away from the staircase. _NO!_ My attempt to scream failed and all I could do was wheeze painfully and desperately try to pry her arm off. _Nonononogethef*ckoffme! GETTHEF*CKOFFME!_

"Nobody walks away from me," The girl growled, violently shoving me onto the floor and grinning when she saw me coughing and struggling to get my breath back.

"_What the hell is this supposed to accomplish?!_" I cried out, pulling myself up to my feet ... only to yell in agony when a hard kick to the face sent me back down. _OOOOOWWWW!_ Pain began throbbing _rapidly _and before I knew it, blood slowly gushed out of my now broken nose and ran down my face, covering my jaw, teeth and neck. I didn't get a chance to escape as my attacker lunged forward, straddled me and slammed the back of my head against the floor, forcing another cry of agony to rip from my throat.

_That gave her just enough time..._

After that, the pain... it _wouldn't stop! _The hard blows to every part of my face, the hurtful insults Amber was screaming, the other students joining in the commotion by _recording on their phones instead of helping me _and the insults they threw at me. Whilst I managed to defend myself by getting a few good hits in, I hate to say that I lost...!

I was left lying in a bloody heap on the floor; rocking back and forth, inhaling and exhaling to calm down, violently trembling and screaming in floods of tears. This is a con for my condition, which is a meltdown. If something horrible happens, I lose my will to recover from my anxiety and end up in this state. I felt _unbelievably _hurt and terrified by what just occurred, so much so that my throat soon turned hoarse and all I could do was cry in agony as I struggled to rise to my feet.

_Why me, people?! Why me...?!_


	4. Chapter 4: Marriage Counseling

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone, apologies for the long wait. :( I hope you all had an awesome Christmas & New Year and I also want to say a big Thank You for the support so far, it really means a lot. :)**

**Anyhow, feel free to leave your thoughts in a review and I hope you all enjoy Chapter 4! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 4: Marriage Counseling**

Looking back, I don't remember much about what happened after I got assaulted. I faintly remember managing to call 911 by myself before my tutor found me - then I remember hearing the ambulance driver saying that I needed an emergency surgery, which was _absolutely terrifying._ After that, I remember being wheeled down into the familiar smells of anaesthetics belonging to the operating theatre and just like that, it was lights out.

I didn't know how much time had passed since then, or most of what happened during my surgery. Here's what I do know, though: Mom was rung and she wasted no time in bailing to the hospital with my sister in tow. Also, my anxiety was pumping up _real quick _as I was wheeled in and I don't think I was able to calm down even after it was lights out. As a result, I went into shock sometime during the procedure and... _god_, this feels horrible to say...!

My heart _stopped_.

I was dead, and I could have been for real if the surgeons weren't quick to resuscitate me with the shock pads. The thought of dying too soon was scary and there were a _lot _of things I wanted to do before my time was up. Firstly, I wanted to bail out of high school and go to college and university. Secondly, I wanted to be a writer. I was always venting in my journal about how sh*tty high school and home life are, but I never thought about writing something different for a change - like stories for example. Maybe they could focus on a young girl with autism who's struggling to find her place in the world and meets a bunch of new people who make a genuine effort to see her for her; friends and possibly someone special?

_It's definitely something to think about._

So... once I woke up, I begun racking my brains on that whilst Tracey went back home quickly to bring a new change of clothes, whilst dumping my bloody ones in the wash. But I was perfectly fine with wearing a blue plaid shirt and grey t-shirt accompanied by my jeans and boots. After I recovered and was discharged, my mother, sister and I made a quick trip to the police station to explain what happened - because considering the circumstances after the assault, it was counted as actual bodily harm. Once that was done, I decided to return to school and send a message to my assailant and the other students, that it was going to take a lot more than an assault to bring me down for good.

_One thing about me, you should know or supposedly figured out already: I'm no damsel. Good thing too._

It was now the end of the day and nearly dark due to the sun setting. I had just come out of the main entrance, feeling _incredibly _relieved that I was able to head home - despite the horrible circumstances there. To the far right was a large group of kids, along with Amber herself, waiting for the local bus to come and as much as I didn't like it, I had to get home the same way occasionally. I could hear murmurs coming from them and without guessing, I realised that the group happened to be gossiping about my assault.

_Not cool, guys. Not cool._

"What did you think about our friend's attack that happened at break-time today?"

"Oh my god, it was _awesome!_ It was that weird girl with the so-called autism."

"Guys, I was there when it happened! There was _so much _blood everywhere, she looked like sh*t! It's gonna make great views on Instagram too!"

"I've posted my video on Facebook and people are gonna love seeing her get what she deserves, I know it!"

The rest of the group began laughing whilst my attacker wore a triumphant grin. Meanwhile, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Clearly these kids didn't know that words hurt and I wasn't going to walk over and start screaming at them as that wouldn't get anywhere. However I did have an opportunity to make it clear to Amber that I wasn't happy, because she turned away from her friends to see me. With a hint of anger boiling, I held my head high and gave her probably one of the most fierce and hateful glares I've ever done in my life, which influenced her eyes to widen.

_Oh, how the tables have turned! Let me make something clear, b*tch. Karma's coming to bite you__ in the *ss and if it doesn't any time soon, that karma will be me._

"You're f*cking terrifying, you know that?"

"Good," I commented, turning round to face Michael (who was clad in a blue polo t-shirt, dark jeans and boots) with a confused yet surprised frown. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I thought Mom was coming to get me?"

"She's got another tennis lesson, hence why I thought I'd come," He answered kindly, despite avoiding eye contact as per _bl**dy usual_ during our short walk to his dark Tailgater Sedan. "You feeling okay?"

I'm going to be honest, I wanted to respond with something along the lines of: Actually, no because my life is a bl**dy nightmare - _when is it going to stop?! _But instead, I solemnly answered: "I don't know,"

If my father sensed this, I couldn't tell. "I understand how you're feeling, Rhino, and I'm so sorry you got assaulted by those kids too - f*cked up course of events, isn't it?"

"You could say that, and you've no need to apologise," I reassured him sadly as the two of us reached the car and climbed on in. "I... I think I'm now starting to wonder what the hell I'm doing on this Earth, when pretty much everyone hates me,"

Dad glanced at me worriedly, before starting up the car and beginning the drive home. "Not everyone hates you, you know? Mom doesn't, your siblings don't and I don't hate you,"

"A-Are you sure?" I stammered in surprise.

"_Of course _I am!" My father told me with a shocked and concerned tone. "Why would you think that, kiddo?"

"Because whenever we talk, I notice you avoiding me,"

Hearing this, the man sighed. "Look, Ryan - I'm... I'm gonna tell you something which I should have told you a lot sooner, alright?"

"Go on?" I asked in confusion. _What are you about to tell me, then?_

"Your siblings, Mom and I are your adopted family," Dad got straight to the point, whilst attempting to hold his anxiety together. _What?! _"Your biological parents are called Trevor and Skylar, they were good friends of ours' back in the 90s - but they both passed away after we went to North Yankton, nine years ago,"

I was in complete and _utter shock_. Looking back, I honestly felt like I had been violently socked in the chest and the pain just... _wouldn't_ stop throbbing. My breathing had glitched too, and there was _no way _I could stop tears from threatening to brim! "Is that... Is that why you can't look at me?"

"Partly," Michael replied honestly, _actually _looking me in the eyes for once. "It's also because..." A nervous gulp. "You remind me of them both and sometimes, I feel like I failed them. But you didn't do anything wrong, okay? I'm sorry that I made you think that over the years,"

"Thank you," Was all I could choke out. "W-W-Why didn't you tell me this, sooner?"

"Because we wanted you to have a good life," Dad answered kindly, seemingly more calmer than he appeared seconds prior. _I appreciate it, but look how great that turned out. _"And your parents would have wanted that as well,"

"Right," I murmured in response, slowly turning to look out my car window.

I don't think I could have brought myself to speak after that, because my mind was in _too many_ negative places at once. I mean, how do you process getting assaulted, dying during surgery because of it and finding out that you were adopted on your 14th birthday?! Looking back, I'd be _very_ surprised if other kids out there had gone through the same ordeal I did, because it shouldn't happen to anyone. Another moment where I'd ponder what kind of bl**dy world do we live in...

Eventually, the two of us reached our house and after piling out of the car, I couldn't help but sense a nagging feeling that we were in something terrible. _Huh? _But back then..., I just usually dismissed it as my anxiety over how ridiculous life here was. _Okay, let's just get the screaming matches done and out of the way. It will be great fun repeating them tomorrow! Not._

"Hey Aman?" Dad called out as he entered the mansion with me in tow. "Tracey? Yo!"

Silence followed, and cue my anxiety levels to boost up again. "They forgot, didn't they?"

"Did you have plans?" My adopted father asked in a concerned manner. _It felt really weird to address him as that..._

"Yeah, we did," I answered sadly. "We decided to give you and Jimmy some peace and quiet, whilst we have a girl's night out. But..." One annoyed sigh later, and "I swear, it's just _one thing_ after another today!"

Michael flashed an apologetic glance, before an idea had suddenly came to mind. "You know what, Ryan? If they want to have their night out to themselves, we'll just let them. How about we watch a movie or something?"

Hearing this, I couldn't help but mildly perk up. "Okay, sure. Anything in particular?"

"You decide on that and I'll be through in a minute," Dad answered happily, venturing into the kitchen.

"Alright, no problem," I said, grinning. _At least someone's willing to make an effort..._

I placed my rucksack by the living room's entrance before heading towards the DVD shelves, which sat in front of the gigantic TV taking up most of the wall it was hooked to. _Okay, wonder what to watch then? _I'll admit, it took a while for me to scan through, because everyone pretty much enjoyed the movies and TV shows we had. Tracey enjoyed multiple seasons of Fame or Shame (_I never understand that show_), whilst Michael mainly watched 80s films - all of which made that particular decade look bl**dy insane to me. _Not really used to the bold hairstyles or bright colors! _But during my rather long scavenging, I failed to notice my adopted father head back outside for a couple of seconds.

Though, what _did_ catch my attention was him later storming back in angrily and dashing upstairs. "Amanda!"

Hearing this, I jogged towards the staircase. "What, what's wrong?" _Here we go..._

"Just stay downstairs, alright?" Michael said, leaving me to pace to and fro worriedly whilst fiercely addressing Mom again with "_Amanda! _You better not be! Not in my house!"

"F*ck you, Michael!" I heard my adopted mother insult him hatefully. "_Go away!_"

"I'm paying that t*rd a hundred and fifty bucks an hour to f*ck my wife?!" Dad demanded, violently bursting through a door. "_In my own bed?!_" _Oh nonononono! I bl**dy knew it!_

"_Michael, go away!_"

Cue Kyle to anxiously defend himself. "Whoa! I'm sorry, bro! She said you had an arrangement!"

"You and I are gonna have an arrangement," I heard my adopted father threaten. "I'm gonna arrange your f*cking funeral!"

"_I'm_ _really sorry_,_ bro!_" The tennis coach pleaded. "I'll comp the session, _I promise!_"

_He's gonna try and escape out the window, isn't he?_

"You are a dead man!" Dad screamed furiously. "_Dead! C'mere!_"

Without thinking, I turned and busted out of the mansion _right_ in time to see Kyle landing after his rather stupid jump. Once his frantic eyes made contact with mine, I angrily took off sprinting towards him and he didn't hesitate in making a break for his Red Blista. _You think you're getting away, huh?! _I then vaulted off an encased piece of grass and hurtled towards Kyle with a cry, violently tackling him to the ground.

"_Dad, I got him!_" I shouted as I struggled to keep a tight grip around the petrified tennis coach's neck, whilst ignoring a stinging pain I felt in my hands and right knee.

"_I'm sorry, Ryan!_" Kyle managed to yell in terror, using the strength he could muster to break free. "_I'm so sorry!_"

Hearing this, I scoffed. "I'm not the one who needs to hear that, _bro!_"

Me attempting to turn him towards Michael's direction was the final straw and before I knew what was happening, an elbow had clumsily yet violently slammed in my eye and I stumbled back with a agonised scream. _You *sshole! _I knew there was no way I could catch him twice, hence why I decided to sprint for the white McGill Bison which my enraged adopted father was entering with an African-American dude (who was clad in a yellow collared shirt, navy jeans and a pair of sneakers) I didn't recall meeting before.

"_Just don't kill him!_" Mom screamed, earning a rather _filthy_ glare from me before she re-entered the mansion and violently slammed the doors behind her.

_After Kyle sped through the gates, we were after him._

"Are you okay, kiddo?!" Dad probed worriedly.

"I'm fine, don't worry!" I brushed my agony off. "Let's just get this guy!"

"What happened, homie?" The new guy asked Michael. _Oh. This must be the infamous Franklin Jimmy told me about._

"Guy bounced my wife and elbowed my daughter in the face is what happened,"

"Which guy?"

"Guy I'm paying to teach her tennis,"

"_The tennis coach?_" Franklin demanded in shock. "Aw, that's f*cked up, man. You rich dudes, homie. You know, back in the hood, man - we gotta watch out for the mailman, dog,"

_Okay, this dude isn't so bad. Kudos._

"Yeah," Michael scoffed bitterly as we followed our target up Vinewood Hills. "I'm a cuckold, a snob and a _f*cking clichè,_"

"Dad, please don't say that," I muttered sadly. "Look, if it helps any - I don't think you're a snob,"

"Ryan, I appreciate you telling me that," My adopted father thanked. "By the way, this is Franklin - he's been helping me out," Cue him addressing the new guy with "Franklin, this is my youngest daughter, Ryan,"

"Hi," I greeted shyly. _Nice to finally meet you._

"What's up, kid?" Franklin replied in a friendly manner, seconds before Michael interrupted by scowling: "The f*ck is he doing?"

"Hey, get out of the way!" My new acquaintance yelled at the grey van scurrying back from the middle of the road. _Oh, c'mon!_

"Motherf*cker!"

"F*ck, man - I think we lost his *ss!" _You don't say!_

"He lives somewhere up in the canyon," Michael reassured us. "We'll find him,"

The drive through rows of big fancy houses continued on for a tad longer and my adopted dad shortly took a right, driving off-road towards a bl**dy massive stilt house perched on top on a hill with a familiar red Blista parked underneath. _Boom, we got him._

"The little pr*ck's up there. Look," Dad sneered hatefully.

"Oh sh*t, coach doin' alright for himself," Franklin commented with surprise.

"Yeah, though it doesn't seem like him," I remarked in agreement.

Cue Michael to slow the truck to a halt, roll down his window and yell out to our target: "Hey, *sshole! You ran off before we could settle our debts!"

"Michael, bud!" Kyle pleaded anxiously. "You got the wrong idea, man!"

_Tch - have we now?!_

"Okay, there's a winch in the back of the truck," Michael explained, walking towards said place after the three of us got out. "Tie the cable to one of those supports up there,"

Hearing this, I glowered at him with shock. _Alright,_ _I completely take that back!_

"You wanna pull his deck down?!" Franklin beat me to demanding.

"Hey, that pr*ck pulled my marriage down,"

"Please tell us you're joking, because this is _way too_ extreme," I butted in cautiously. "Maybe we can come up with something else to get back at him?"

"I'm with her," My acquaintance added. "You really gonna be this f*cking dramatic, man?!"

"_Whatever,_" Michael scoffed, _too_ wrapped up in his anger to care about morals. _Are you bl**dy kidding me?!_

Franklin and I then shared a worried look, before he ultimately gave up and pulled down the truck's back door. Whilst he was busy with tying the cable to the house's support beam, Michael and Kyle both entered a furious screaming match - which left me completely and utterly helpless on how to resolve the situation without more people getting hurt. _Oh for god's sake, what do I do?!_

"I told you I'd comp the session, bud!"

"Well, there were a lot of freaking sessions, bud! I'm thinking you were working on more than just her backhand!"

"Mandy's backhand has come a long way, bro!" The tennis coach attempted to reason with him. "Sometimes, it's got to get worse to get better!"

"Yeah, well, maybe I should come up there and practice my backhand _on your face!_"

"Oh, bud!" Kyle shot back. "Your negative energy is _seriously_ bringing me down!"

_Really, you're playing the victim role now?!_

"Why don't you come down here and we have a little fight, you bl**dy rinsepot?!" I yelled angrily at him, having had enough.

"I don't fight kids, Ryan!" _You freaking liar!_

"Oh, the irony!" I scowled hatefully, pointing to my bruised eye.

Meanwhile, Franklin had finished his mini job for the night and quickly re-joined us. "We hooked up, guys,"

I gave him a thumbs-up in acknowledgement, as Michael continued his tyraid of abuse. "You come into my house, take my money, nail my wife _and hurt my daughter, are you f*cking kidding me?!_"

Looking back, I have to admit that I was in shock to see Kyle unfazed by the fury directed at him. "I'm gonna stick up my hand and say that was uncool, bud. My bad, _seriously!_"

I rolled my eyes, whilst Michael sarcastically responded with: "How f*cking magnanimous!" Cue a brief clap. "May I please offer you my applause," And finally, a scream of rage. "_You f*cking motherf*cker!_"

"_Dude!_"

"Hey - we'll see how you like it when someone f*cks with your sh*t!" Dad _finally_ finished their little match, ducking underneath the tied up cable and making his way towards the truck with me in tow and Franklin already inside. Once we were ready to go, Michael began to accelerate and the supporting beams began to buckle and the house slowly began to topple over.

"_Aw, sh*t!_ You see this sh*t, kid?!" Franklin questioned me.

"I've got eyes in the back of my head, mate!" I answered, equally dumbfounded. _Dad, you're insane!_

"Aw, hell yeah, homie!" My acquaintance cheered. "He know what time it is!"

"No argument there!" I remarked in agreement.

It didn't take very long for the house to complete its' descent and upon turning my head to look at the carnage, I gawked. "Bl**dy hell, Dad!"

"F*ck man, f*ck!"

"Oh, we did it!" Michael celebrated triumphantly. "F*ck his *ss!"

"Yeah, f*ck him," Franklin agreed as we began the long drive back. "But was we really trying to pull the dude's house off the f*ckin' hill?"

"We were trying to teach him a f*cking lesson," Dad answered smugly.

"Now, that's an expensive b*tch-*ss lesson, man,"

"Maybe he'll keep it on the court and out of my wife," _Woah, calm down there!_

"Yeah, he not taking no housewives back to that motherf*cker,"

"Hey, it's a service to the f*cking community,"

_Argh, I don't even know what to say now._

For a couple of minutes, the drive through Rockford Hills was silent - mainly because of myself trying to remain calm after what I just witnessed. But that came to an end when Michael suddenly received a phone call and decided to pick up.

"_Mr. De Santa! What the hell?! That's not my house!_" The unmistakable voice of Kyle came through. _Screw you!_

"Bullsh*t," Dad scowled hatefully.

"_Bro, I couldn't afford a place like that! I'm a tennis coach and I hit balls for a living! I was just hiding there!_"

_Oooooh no._

"_Give me phone!_" A woman's voice laced with a French accent interrupted. Cue a snatching of hands, and off she went yelling down the phone. "_You! You're a dead man! Green light! Green light! Martin Madrazo gave you green light!_"

"Guys, what is she yapping on about?" I questioned in a confused yet nervous manner.

"Don't worry about it," Michael reassured me. "We're almost home, anywa—"

Suddenly, a black vehicle violently barged into us out of _nowhere_ and bonus points went to bullets flying towards us from behind! _I think it's a bit too late to stop worrying! _I screamed as one almost punctured the back window and instinctively ducked down to avoid getting shot. _B*llocks!_

"Stay down, Ryan - you're gonna be fine!" Dad instructed calmly. _I'm already am! _Cue him to frantically ask Franklin: "Kid, can you do something?!"

"I'll give it a go, man! Keep driving!" Our acquaintance ordered frantically, rolling down his window and begin opening fire. This prompted Michael to floor it and me to cry out in terror: "How are the pair of you _so calm_ about this?!"

"Because we've had more experience!" Franklin beat Michael to responding. "Just take deep breaths, kid! We've got your back!"

I followed his advice without hesitation and looking back nowadays, I'm a little embarrassed to admit that I felt like the stereotypical damsel - even though me flinching and yelling at any possible jump scares would be considered a normal reaction. Bad news: I found myself violently trembling in my seat and I knew from that sign _alone_, that I was dangerously close to another meltdown. _Please don't have a repeat of this morning, Ryan! Please don't have a bl**dy repeat! _Thankfully, I was able to hold it together unlike last time and soon enough, the three of us managed to make it back in one piece.

_Oh, thank the lord!_

"Are you okay, Ryan?" Michael asked as we piled out of the truck.

"Y-Yeah, shocked but alive," I stammered, slowly feeling more at ease. "What about you guys?"

"We're both good, kid," Franklin reassured me, earning a shaky thumbs up in return.

"Thanks for the help out there today, both of you," Dad chimed in appreciatively. _I don't think I did anything worthwhile, but you're welcome. _"I had no idea it was going to get that hot,"

"Second that," I muttered.

"Sh*t - pulling houses off the hillside sure has a weird way of f*cking with people,"

"Yeah well, I thought I was through with all that sh*t," Michael revealed solemnly, before he gestured for me to follow him back into the house. "I have no idea what the f*ck's going on,"

Before I could throw in a comment, the sounds of a car pulling up caught our attention and the three of us turned round to realise that we had visitors emerging out of said black vehicle and stalking towards us. _Oh, for god's sake. No! _Franklin must have felt a tad annoyed like I was, when he cautiously murmured: "Sh*t, I think we're about to find out,"

_Cheers for the obvious statement, mate._

"Can we help you?" I icily asked one of our new visitors, a middle-aged grey haired and brown eyed man who was clad in a blue collared jacket with a white collared shirt underneath, matching pants and brown shoes. _Dare I say it, his sense is way more weirder than Jimmy's._

"Why, yes," The guy answered mockingly, before angrily questioning "Do you know who I am?"

"No,"

Cue him pointing a bony finger at Michael. "Do _you_ know who I am?"

"_No!_" Dad shot back, irritated.

And finally, Franklin. "Well then, do you happen to know?"

"I think so," Our acquaintance responded sheepishly.

This pleased the guy in the ridiculous suit. "Good," He then faced Michael with a fierce "I know who you are, I know where you live,"

"What, are you some kind of _obsessive stalker?_" I growled coldly, coming to Dad's defence. _Leave us alone, dude!_

"He probably is, kiddo," My adoptive father agreed.

"I'll get to you in a minute," The dude threatened calmly, prompting the two of us to glower at him - before he turned on Franklin, completely unfazed. "Who are you?"

"I'm Franklin,"

"License," After he handed said card over, our 'friend' placed it in his pocket. _W-Wha, when are you going to give it back? _"Franklin, maybe help Mr. De Santa and his daughter here. Who am I?"

"I think, Martin Madrazo," The African-American reluctantly began explaining. _So, this is the guy that woman was yapping down the phone about._

"Good boy," Martin interrupted with a compliment. "_Now,_ maybe give them a little of the background,"

Hearing this, Franklin ultimately gave up. "Man, Mr. Madrazo - Mr. Madrazo is a legitimate businessman. He was wrongfully accused of running a Mexican American gang and a narcotic ring, but the charges were dropped because of the witnesses that came up missing,"

_AAAAAAnd why do we need to know this?_

"Smart kid," The businessman commented, then facing my father with a filthy glare as an accomplice handed him a baseball bat. _Oh no...! _"Now, Michael - I've got a question for you,"

The bat suddenly came swinging and a hard blow sent Michael falling to the ground in agony, with said accomplice aiming a pistol at him and Martin screaming: "_Why did you pull an architecturally, significant modernist wonder home down the hillside in Vinewood Hills?!_"

"I... I thought the owner was banging my wife," Dad groaned in pain.

"Well, that was a _strange_ house for a tennis coach," Martin scoffed bitterly.

"I wasn't thinking straight!"

"_Clearly,_"

"Yeah," Franklin agreed.

"Well, Natalia will need a hotel," Martin _thankfully_ pulled back, returning the melee weapon to his accomplice. "While you fiance the rebuild, won't she?"

"Sure,"

"Good. And I'm guessing here that, the rebuild will be somewhere in the two point five million range?"

_You bl**dy serious, right now?! How do you expect him to gather that much money?!_

"Of course,"

"Great," With that, Martin and his group left us to it - but not before he returned Franklin's license and the only woman, Natalia, rather rudely spat on Michael. _Oi!_

"That's nice," My adopted father commented sarcastically, wiping his face as the black car drove through our mansion's gates. Seconds after, Franklin and I helped him up to his feet, accompanied by the former asking: "Damn, you alright?"

"Never better,"

"So, what now?"

Hearing this, Dad sighed. "Looks like I'm gonna have to postpone my retirement," Cue a frustrated "F*ck! Man, I'm mortgaged up to my eyeballs!" A more calmer approach. "Look, I only know one way to make money. I'm gonna have to give an old friend a call, Lester. I think he's here somewhere, and... I could use an extra two pairs of hands here on out,"

"Okay, sure," Franklin signed on, also sending me a concerned glance. "Sorry, I gotta ask - how old are you?"

"No need to apologise," I responded kindly, despite hiding the confusion I felt because of what Michael had told us. _I don't remember him working over the years..._ "And I'm 14, by the way,"

"Isn't Ryan a little too young for this kind of sh*t?"

"Yeah, that's why I'm worried about this," Michael answered solemnly, which allowed me to slowly put two and two together. _Oh... _"Just give me some time to get things sorted, alright?"

"Alright, dog," Our acquaintance decided to bid a fond farewell via sharing a fist bump with him and leaving us to it. "Later, Ryan!"

"Nice to meet you too, Franklin!" I offered a friendly salute, smiling.

_Okay, Michael... What kind of gangster, life or death shenanigans are we about to experience?_


	5. Chapter 5: Daddy's Little Girl

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone, apologies for the long wait. This chapter may be a little rushed as well, which I apologise for. :( I hope you all are staying safe, considering the coronavirus and also, if any of you need a distraction, you're welcome to check out my other projects. :)**

**As usual, feel free to leave your thoughts in a review and I hope you all enjoy Chapter 5! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Daddy's Little Girl**

**_(The Next Afternoon - Wednesday, September 18, 2013 - De Santa Residence in Rockford Hills, __Los Santos, San Andreas, USA...)_**

_"So, I guess you must have some questions?"_

_"In a manner of speaking,"_

_"Alright, shoot,"_

_"Okay... First of all, what exactly have you done, which involved guns?"_

_"I... I was a bank robber. Your parents and your uncle Brad were too, you wouldn't remember him - because you were a little kid back then,"_

_"You're right ... Did you guys kill people?"_

_"That's another reason why I'm worried about involving you, kiddo,"_

_"Look, Dad, I get it. But if you're so worried about me risking my life, then why are you asking me to help you? I'll just get in the way,"_

_"You really think that?"_

_"Yeah. I don't know anything about your line of work and I'm with Franklin, I'm too young for this and it will probably mean that I'll have to give up my education,"_

_"No, no, I'm with you. Have you not seen those spouts of yours', though?"_

_"No? W-Wait, you mean jumping Kyle and challenging him to a fight, don't you?"_

_"Precisely. I'm surprised you haven't noticed,"_

_"Tell me about it. Look, do you mind if I could have a think about this? I've had a horrible day and... I just don't want to screw everything up like I usually do,"_

_"That's fine and stop putting yourself down like that, Ryan. You haven't done anything wrong,"_

_"Okay, if you say so,"_

...

After what was pretty much the worst birthday I've ever had, I spent the next morning deep in thought.

It was decided that I would be working from home whilst the situation with Amber was being resolved and I was quite thankful for that, because I needed to bail out and have a break. Then, there was Michael asking me for help in a dangerous line that I wasn't sure if I fancied crossing. I mean, I may have been a kid at the time, but I wasn't going to be one of those stupid idiots who dived into something without using their brains.

_Which was what most people my age were._

So in order to make my decision easier, I decided to separate it into pros and cons. The latter ones were obvious - but with that being said, I'll admit that the former ones took me aback; I supposed I could be an ally without killing anyone and it would be handy to have some fighting tricks up my sleeve. _The latter would have helped a lot when my bullies sent me through death's door, come to think of it. _Despite that, however - there's this one glaring con that made my decision really hard: it's _against_ my nature to put myself first instead of others and I knew that as much as I wanted to help Michael, I would be putting myself at risk if I did.

_Argh, I have no idea what to bl**dy do!_

"Dude, do you even _have_ a penis?" Jimmy's voice began to loudly echo throughout the mansion. "Or are you one of those hermaphro dudes born without genitals?"

Hearing this, I held back a sigh as I continued writing my school work in my bedroom. _Augh, there he goes - taunting his enemies on Righteous Slaughter again. When was the last time Jimmy had a break from that? He could make himself sick if he's been on there 24/7!_

My older brother, however, appeared to be unfazed. "You suck c*ck for fun, only secretly, and then you feel bad about it!"

_Oh, for god's sake!_

"Jimmy?!" I politely called out. "Could you tone down the swearing a bit, please?! I'm trying to do my work!"

No answer. _Of bl**dy course. _I clenched my eyes shut with annoyance, before pulling myself off my bed and preparing to close my door - so I could get some peace and quiet ... only to see an equally annoyed Michael storming upstairs on my right. _Oh god._

"You can hear him too?" I asked worriedly.

"Yep," My adopted father confirmed, growling under his breath. "That disrespectful little _f*ck...!_"

"W-Wait, hold on," I told him, exiting my bedroom and heading towards Jimmy's. "Let me handle this, and you can go back and watch TV,"

Hearing this, Michael stared at me with a fierce glower which pretty much asked: _You think you can do this, by yourself?! _to which I responded with a calm but mildly ticked off "_Okay_ \- how does this sound, then? You can stick nearby and if he becomes too much, you help me out - but _civilly,_"

_We've been fighting for almost ten years - so why not change that? That wouldn't hurt, would it?_

If Dad sensed my thoughts, I couldn't tell. "Fine,"

One confident thumbs up later, and off I went knocking on my brother's door. "Hi, Jimmy,"

"Hey, Ryan," The 20 year-old greeted in an unenthusiastic manner, _way too_ focused on his bl**dy video game to pause it just for one second. _How am I gonna do this, especially since our volatile dad can snap at any bl**dy moment?!_

His bedroom was a right old state too, so much so that it would have been ranked 1st place for the most Untidy Place of 2013 and before you ask if I'm joking, I'm not - even though I wish I was. A _ridiculously gigantic_ TV, accompanied by two yellow speakers, took up the whole bl**dy wall in front of his messy bed - not to mention the multiple space and rocket band posters which also took up a similar space and unfolded clothes sprayed all over the floor. Instead of having his laptop placed on his bed (so he wouldn't accidentally step on it without realising), Jimmy had said PC also on the floor by his speakers and finally, he had a coloured bong of all objects positioned next to him. _Bud, I hate to say this - but what's happened to you and Tracey?_

_You both are good people, so... argh, why do I feel like I'm the only decent kid out of the three of us when I'm not?!_

"Did _Michael_ send you here?" Jim interrupted my thoughts with a hateful sneer directed at our father.

"I think you mean Dad," I gently corrected with a smile. "And no, he didn't. Did you hear me, before I came in?"

"No, I didn't," My brother answered. _Because you're on your game, I know. _"What's up?"

"Okay, that's fine. I was going to ask if you could... tone down the swearing a bit, please?" I asked kindly. "It's fine that you're on your game, don't worry, but I'm trying to do my work and don't particularly fancy getting distracted - if that makes sense?"

Hearing this, Jimmy flashed me a glare. _Oh god. _"Ryan - this is _how I play!_"

"That isn't what I meant, dude," I tried nervously, becoming aware that my anxiety was pumping up by the minute. _Please don't yell at me, please don't yell at me!_

"You know if you don't like this so much, then f*ck off!"

Now, that stung. _Painfully._ But before I could react, in came a furious Michael who whipped up a nearby chair stood in front of a speaker and violently smashed it into the TV! "_F*ck you!_"

I jumped with a squeal, whilst Jimmy exclaimed: "_What the f*ck?!_" before springing from his bed in horror.

"Disrespectful little *sshole!" Our father growled, tossing the chair away in almost a fit of rage.

"I can't believe you did that! _That's my TV!_"

"Dad, was that _really_ necessary?!" I cried out in shock.

"You don't talk to your sister like that!" Michael ignored me by viciously scolding Jimmy.

"_I can't believe you...!_" My adopted brother trailed off ... seconds before launching into a tyraid of abuse. "Mom was right about you, you don't know any better and you can't help it! _But you're an *sshole!_"

"_Jimmy, stop it!_" I yelled anxiously.

"_Yeah?_ Well, why don't you do something, then?" Dad suggested hatefully, leaving my words on deaf ears. "Besides, just stand there. Why don't you hit me?"

_Oh nonononono!_

"Is that what you want?" The 20 year-old demanded. "To be hit by your own son?!"

"Yeah!" Michael shouted angrily. "...No! I just want you to do _something_ besides sit there, _eating!_" Says the guy who does the exact same thing.

"Yeah, great!" My brother scoffed, preparing to leave. "Thanks for the _f*cking guidance_, Dad! It means a lot!"

"Wait!" Dad stopped him, having thankfully recovered from his fit of rage. "I'm just trying to help ya!"

"Well, nothing says _I love you_ like smashing my f*cking TV!" Jim scolded him, sitting on his bed with frustration. "Nothing at all!"

Hearing this, our father sighed with a hint of remorse. "I'm sorry, okay? I just wish that we could do things together,"

"Like what?" I piped up.

"I don't know. Go for walks? Play ball?"

"You know I have bad glands!" Cue Jimmy to interrupt with an annoyed protest.

"Okay - how about bike rides, then?" Dad suggested hopefully, quickly flashing me a look to ask: What do you think? - to which I responded with a cautious but mildly perky "Wouldn't hurt to do that, someday,"

"See?" He said happily, earning a small smile from me. _It's cool that Dad's willing to try and spend time with us now. Maybe, the result might be great?_ "How about it, Jim?"

"You two want to go on a f*cking bike ride?!" My brother spat, glowering at us like we were the stupidest duo on the planet.

"What's wrong with that?" I questioned, still hurt by his insult - yet feeling sympathetic for the poor dude for having his TV smashed in.

"_Everything! _Give me one good reason why I should head on a f*cking bike ride of all things!"

"I can think of a _lot_ of reasons, actually," I snarked back calmly. _Two most important ones: you'd have a break from that game of yours' and stop making yourself ill by staring at the TV all day. This would do you a world of good, bro!_

"Okay, Ryan - I think you've made your point," Cue Dad to play peacemaker before another argument could break out and I'm glad he did, because I don't know how much longer I would have pushed Jimmy's buttons. _Feel free to thank yesterday for me wanting to get back at people who hurt my feelings._

Accepting this, I threw my hands up. "I rest my case," Cue me flashing my brother a worried look. "Though the bike ride is just an idea, Jimmy, and sorry about your TV too,"

"Fine, _fine!_" Said bro angrily rose from his bed and storming out of the room, ignoring my words as well. _Like Father, like Son. _"Let's go on a f*cking bike ride!"

His annoyed remark had thrown both Michael and myself by surprise. _Woah there, nelly! _After I managed to recover from the initial shock, I glowered at Dad. _Why did I let you stick around earlier? _"Happy?"

"No," He sighed in defeat, before we followed Jim downstairs and out of the mansion. _Tch, should have thought about that - before you smashed the bl**dy TV then, shouldn't you?_

"My day was going _so well_ until you showed up, Michael!" My adoptive brother complained as we climbed into our father's car. Once the latter rumbled to life, off the three of us went through the gates and towards Vespucci Beach. "_Argh!_"

"Yeah, well, you're lucky to be even allowed out of the house," Dad sneered. "After that _boat_ stunt,"

"What's the big deal, anyway?" Jimmy scoffed. "If anything goes wrong, you can just _fake your death_ and start all over," _Did I just hear that right?!_

"_Jimmy!_" Michael warned him icily.

"_What, it's true!_"

"You faked your own death, Dad?" I asked our father worriedly. "W-Wh, I hope you don't mind me asking, but why? Did something happen?"

"_I-I-It's_ not important," Michael stammered for a split second. _Really? _"You know, kids? Let's talk about something else, okay?"

"Alright," _Actually, it was important._

"Hey, Ryan?" Jimmy cautiously decided to address me, as Michael continued driving.

"What?" I questioned in a distant manner. "Got another insult up your sleeve?"

"No, I'm...! I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings, okay?" He surprisingly apologised. "Y-You know I just... _snap_ sometimes, right?"

I sighed. "Yeah," _Once again - like Father, like Son._

"Do you think it's something I need to work on?"

"I think we _all_ have issues we need to sort out," I answered honestly, quickly continuing with a near frantic "That's not to put you both, Mom and Tracey down in any way, don't worry,"

"We know, kiddo," Michael reassured me. "I meant to ask you this morning - how are you feeling, considering yesterday?"

Hearing this, I shot him a confused glance. "I don't understand, what do you mean?"

"I-I mean," Dad stammered again. _Is it me or do I detect some fear there? If so, why is that? _"W-Well, you know..." _Oh..._

"Trevor and Skylar?" I guessed correctly.

"Yeah," My adoptive father confirmed. "How are you feeling about that?"

Cue Jimmy to interrupt with a distressed "_You told her?!_"

"Well, she was going to find out eventually, Jim!" Michael fired back icily, before proceeding to kindly address me again. "So?"

"I, um," I began nervously. "I don't know, to be honest. You guys are pretty much the _only_ family that I remember and I feel bad that I've forgotten Trevor, Skylar and Brad, I _really_ do,"

"It's perfectly normal that you've forgotten them, Ryan," Dad responded, this time much more confidently. "And you might as well consider that a blessing, because your real Dad was hell walking on Earth," _Come again?!_

"That doesn't make any sense," I commented with a frown. _What about what you told me when we were driving home yesterday?!_

"Oh, but it _does_. He was a f*cking deranged maniac, kiddo," Michael told me bitterly. "He's also where you get your looks and angry spouts from, in case you were wondering,"

"Sounds like you were scared of him," I bluntly pointed out, managing to hide my growing terror over the next thought which entered my brain. _D-Does that mean... I'm__— __No! No, that's bl**dy stupid. He wouldn't._

"You know - he wasn't always like that, Rhino," Jimmy thankfully interrupted, before our father could dampen Trevor's image even more. _He can't be that bad, can he? I mean, let him and Skylar rest in peace! _"Both he and Aunt Skylar were really cool with me and Tracey,"

"Yeah, she was an angel," Dad agreed, supposedly remembering her fondly. _Thank you for not dampening my mother's image! And I'm assuming I get my personality from her? Cool! _"I don't know what the f*ck she saw in him,"

Hearing this, I had to hold back an annoyed remark. _Excuse me, that's my parents you just insulted. How many times am I going to have to tell you to let them rest in peace now?! _I don't think I had it in me to talk much after that, so the boys decided to bicker again over Michael driving like a psychopath as Jim had put it. During so, I allowed myself to be whisked away into my thoughts. A lot of questions were bombarding my brain, one of them was: What did my biological parents look like? and... despite the hint I got from Michael, it didn't help that my memory was faint - because if it wasn't, then I would have been able to answer that myself by going on a mental trip down memory lane. Also, I would have been able to remember positive moments I had with them and... _argh!_

_Words couldn't describe how much I was beginning to hate myself for forgetting them...!_

"Okay, we're here," Dad snapped me out of my thoughts, pulling the Tailgater to a stop at a miniature car park - which was just across the road from a small rental shop with a row of said transport for people to choose from. _Oh, bingo! _Once the three of us had climbed out and shut the vehicle's doors behind us, we approached the clerk (who seemed to be a friendly dude, appearance-wise) and Michael greeted him with "Hey you, three bikes,"

"Take your pick,"

"Thanks," Dad replied appreciatively, instantly diving for a blue one. _Well, there goes my first choice. Never mind. _Meanwhile, I had decided to make do with a red bike and Jimmy had chosen an orange one. _Okay, let's do this._

"So, where are we going?" I asked, as we had walked our bikes out to a very long path travelling all the way to Los Santos Pier. _We're heading there, aren't we?_

"Race you both to the Pier?" Michael suggested eagerly, so much so that a small amused smile spread across my face. _Of bl**dy course._

"You sure?" Cue said smile breaking out into a grin.

"Course! It'll be fun," My adoptive father chuckled, prompting me to playfully roll my eyes. _As long as you're sure, then. _"How about it, Jimmy?"

"Alright," My older brother replied, continuing with a confident "But if I make it to the end of the pier first, you're gonna buy me a big *ss new flatscreen!"

"Yeah, well - if I beat you there, you're gonna behave like a human being!"

"Ladies, calm down," I butted in, smirking. "Let's go!"

_And off we went!_

"Ryan, what are you after if you beat us there?" Dad questioned me as the three of us rode at a decent pace through the crowd of citizens walking by.

"Less arguments between you two!" I answered happily, which was rather surprising - considering how horrible yesterday and the past nine years were. "And more family time like this! This is fun!"

"Alright, let's see what happens!"

"Give it up, Dad!" Jimmy began boasting, despite already gasping for air. "You've gone to seed! In this kind of condition, a triathlon will kill you! If I have a heart attack, it's your fault!"

"Come on, Jim! Keep pushing!" Michael pleasantly encouraged the 20 year-old.

"My lungs are burning!" Said young adult exclaimed. "But humiliating you makes it all worthwhile!"

"All that smack talk ain't going to put me off my stride!"

"My body isn't meant to work like this, but I'm making it to beat you!"

"Yes, Jimmy!" I cheered excitedly with a giggle.

"If you bike a few more miles," Michael continued smack talking away. "We might be able to squeeze you into some skinny jeans!"

_Woah, okay. That's a little rough._

It didn't take long for us to make it to the end of the pier ... and guess who won? Yep, Michael - who had pulled his bike to a stop and turned to smugly grin at Jimmy and I, having also halted in our tracks right behind him. "Looks like you're buying your own TV,"

"Congratulations, Dad," I panted, flashing a quick thumbs up. "Good race,"

"Thank you, Ryan,"

"You're welcome,"

"You know, this is real nice, Dad," Jimmy agreed, sweat visibly beading his football jersey and pants. "Bonding, good times,"

"Yeah, yeah, I've given it my best shot," Our father replied hopefully. "Come on, we're having fun - right?"

I opened my mouth to respond in the affirmative, but my older brother had beaten me to it. "You wouldn't know fun, if it sat on your face,"

"But at least, he's trying?" I offered, earning a small but thankful smile from Michael. "That counts for something, doesn't it?"

And once more, my words were left on deaf ears. _Here we go. _"I mean, why do I have to hold your hand through this whole midlife crisis bullsh*t?! And why don't you stick your nose up Tracey's or Ryan's butts, sometime?!"

Hearing this, I glowered at him in shock. "Excuse me?!"

"Because Tracey and Ryan don't buy cars they can afford, so that thugs break into our house," Our father defended me and my sister. "Tracey and Ryan don't get kidnapped or destroy my yacht!"

"Well, that's because Tracey's too busy getting f*cked by dudes to get on TV!" Jimmy fired back with annoyance.

"_Jimmy!_" I shouted with horror. _How can you say that?!_

"You don't talk about your sister that way!" Michael scolded him angrily.

"Well, _I'm sorry_ \- but it's true!" Jim revealed frantically. "I mean, according to her Facebook page, she's hanging out with producers and porno guys this afternoon!"

"I beg your pardon?" I growled worriedly.

"What are you talking about?" Dad demanded, equally concerned.

"Actually," The young adult began, feeling a tad pleased with himself as he pointed to a luxurious yacht not too far from the Pier. "It's all happening right out there,"

"_What?!_"

"That boat that makes yours' look like a refugee raft," Jimmy boasted again. _Please stop, for god's sake! _"You know, that kind of boat? The one that makes a young, impressionable girl drop her pants and spread her legs,"

Hearing this, I shoved a fist against my mouth and found myself gagging in repulsion. _That's too much! I'm going to bl**dy throw up, if you won't shut your mouth!_

Our father was _just_ as disgusted as I was, having stripped out of his polo shirt and jeans to his swim shorts and jammed a finger in his son's face. "This is the reason you brought us here, isn't it? _You f*ck!_"

With that, he took off sprinting and ignored an unenthusiastic plea from Jimmy to wait. _Urgh!_ Without hesitation, I grabbed my bike and quickly got myself seated. _This is going to end so badly, I know it!_

"Ryan, where are you going?!" My brother demanded, following suit.

"Where do you think?!" I shouted angrily, before fearfully taking off with him _right_ on my heels.

Looking back, I cycled as fast as my legs could - whilst taking quick glances at the yacht to see what was occurring. _Dad, please don't lose your temper like you usually do! Please don't lose your temper like you usually do! _Jimmy and I were probably half way across the pier, when distant gunfire had erupted and I caught a brief glimpse of Michael and Tracey speeding away from several men on a Seashark. _Oh no! _Even worse? Dad and said dudes had pistols in hand and were firing round after round at each other! _NO!_

This prompted me to cycle faster and soon enough, the two of us were within reaching distance of our two family members after we had made it down to the beach. Breathing heavily, I just about managed to stumble off my bike ... only mere seconds before collapsing into the sand with my anxiety _throbbing_ within me like wildfire. _Tracey, you better be okay!_

"There he is!" Tracey screamed with rage, pulling herself off the Seashark and violently storming up to him. "Jimmy, you D-Bag!_ You! You f*cking *sshole!_"

"He... _He's the f*cking *sshole,_ okay?!" Jimmy yelled in terror, stumbling back from the older girl and pointing a bony finger at Michael - all the while ignoring the fact that I had collapsed from terror. "He smashed my TV and took me and Ryan to the beach! The beach, with my skin!"

"So, what? You sent him out to spoil my day, too?!" The blonde scowled. "And Rhino's?!"

"_I didn't know_ that he was going to come get you, I just told him where you were! You know, he got the crazy look into his eyes. You know, like he gets sometimes? And he just went."

"I'm getting a cab," Tracey told him, storming off. _Hey, at least tell us you're alright!_

"I'm coming with you,"

"How about I just drive us home?" Michael offered as I pulled myself up to my feet and started rubbing sand off my shirt and jeans in disgust. Tracey wasn't having any of it and she whirled round to face him with the most hateful glare any of us had seen, intentionally hurting him with the following words: "_You **ruined** my life!_"

_TRACEY!_

Both she and Jimmy were _completely_ oblivious to the horrified glare I shot them, having walked away from Dad and myself. _Nobody should say that to anyone!_ This was... This was one of the few moments where I felt genuinely bad for Michael and even from where I stood, I could tell that he was _deeply_ upset by his daughter's declaration - which must have cut like a knife.

_I'm so sorry, Dad..._


	6. Chapter 6: Casing the Jewel Store

**Guest:** Hello, thank you for the review! Sleepwalking's already on Wattpad and you can find my account's name on my profile! :)

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone, apologies for the wait. :( I hope you all are doing well too and as always, feel free to leave your thoughts in a review and I hope you all enjoy! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Casing the Jewel Store**

**_(Los Santos Pier at Vespucci Beach, __Los Santos, San Andreas, USA...)_**

"You know you don't have to stick around for me, right?" Michael told me as he changed back into his shirt and shorts. Whilst he did so, I was busy distracting myself from our situation by gazing out at the lovely blue ocean. _I imagine the world underneath is a million times better than this one... _"I understand if you want to head home instead of hanging with an *sshole who's _ruined_ his kids' lives,"

_Congratulations, Tracey._

"Dad, don't let them get to you," I tried reassuring him. "You're trying and that's the important thing, okay?"

"_But she's right!_" My father protested, deeply upset. "She's hanging out with porno guys, Jimmy just spends all day eating and _you...!_" A split-second crack, which was enough for my heart to give a painful lurch. _Oh no! _"_I...!_ Sometimes, I wish that you were my daughter,"

"I am, aren't I?" _I'm Daughter Number 2 - so, wish granted!_

"That's not what I meant,"

"Then, what _did_ you mean?" I asked, feeling bad for the poor guy.

"I mean that you and Franklin are the kids I've always wanted," Dad confessed sadly, standing next to me. "You'd both be my _only_ kids in an alternate universe," _What, did I just hear that right?_

I honestly had no idea how to respond, mainly because my mind was yelling at me to defend my adopted siblings - despite them being ridiculously ungrateful towards him and behaving like spoiled monkeys. My shocked silence must have spoken volumes, because Michael was quick to continue wallowing in his self-despair. "I'm sorry that I'm unloading this all on you, kiddo - don't mind me, okay?"

"No, no, you're not unloading this on me," I reassured him. "Look, w-why don't we do something to keep your mind off this? We could maybe have another bike ride or take a walk down the beach? Anything you want!"

Hearing this, Dad smiled gratefully. "That sounds awesome. But I actually have a meeting with a friend and I'm sure he'd be alright with you coming along, that's if you wanted to?"

"Is it Franklin?" I asked curiously. _Would be pretty cool to hang out with him, again._

"No, it's Lester," My father confirmed, earning an understanding look from me. "So, how about it?"

"Yeah, okay," I replied. "I wouldn't mind tagging along,"

"Great!" Michael said happily, before fishing out his phone. "Just hold on a second, I'm gonna call him real quick,"

"Alright,"

He then dialled Lester's number and held the phone to his ear. Three buzzes later, and a seemingly unfamiliar voice came through the other end. "_Hello?_"

"Hey, Lester," Dad greeted. "You still on board for our meeting?"

"_Yep,_"

"Good, I'll be around soon and I'm bringing someone with me,"

"_Who is it?_" Lester questioned cautiously. _Okay, that's not unreasonable._

"You remember Ryan? _Trevor's_ daughter?"

"_Oh, yes!_" His friend revealed with surprise, before recomposing himself. "_That's fine, just as long as she doesn't kill us,_"

Hearing this, I glowered in annoyance. _Why would I kill you both? _Meanwhile, Michael had to hold back an amused smirk. "She's not very impressed,"

"_She heard that?_"

"Yep, and she's gonna hit the roof like her Dad at any minute," He revealed, grinning. _Okay, you guys had your moment of fun. Congratulations. Can you let Trevor rest in peace, now? _Thankfully, Michael somehow managed to detect my thoughts and snapped out of it. "We'll be over soon, alright?"

"_Okay,_"

With that, Michael finished his conversation and glanced at me with a chuckle and... _is that fear I see in his eyes, there? ... No, we've already established that it's not. Don't start again, anxiety! _"You really need to get a better understanding of humour, Ryan,"

"That was a joke?" I asked in a confused manner.

"Course it was,"

_Didn't seem like it._

**_(Darnell Bros. Factory on Popular Street, La Mesa...)_**

After the two of us left the beach, I quickly learned that Lester often assisted in planning heists before they went ahead - which prompted me to ask why Michael did them with my parents and Brad in the first place and... I'll admit that I was a little dumbfounded when my adopted father told me that they simply enjoyed it. I mean, _why would someone..._ why would someone _enjoy_ stealing money and potentially hurting people?! Personally, I think me tagging along to meet up with Lester just goes to show how bl**dy naive I was back then, because I had no idea what I was walking into.

_In fact, I think history would have been altered massively if I decided to step out - which is what I should have done._

"Okay, here we are," Dad snapped me out of my thoughts, pulling the Tailgater to a stop outside a pretty tall building in the La Mesa district. As we climbed out of the car and shut the doors behind us, I snuck a quick glance at said location with a confused frown. "So, this is where your friend is at?"

"Apparently,"

The two of us then entered said building to see a staircase leading to the upper floor and a slightly overweight man stood there with a cane in hand, waiting for us. _That must be the infamous Lester, then._ I couldn't tell how old he was, but I guessed that he must have been in the same age range as Michael or possibly younger at least - considering how long they knew each other. He appeared to be a decent enough person too; balding auburn hair, glasses, green plaid shirt, dark jeans and brown boots. _I wonder why he has a cane, though? Did something happen?_

"The hell is this place?" Michael greeted, as he and I ascended to meet him.

"A garment factory. I needed a job that didn't require me to do anything apart from, uh, paying taxes," Lester explained, leading us into a smaller room, which was packed the essentials one would expect to see in a makeshift office. _Okay, nice to see he's done well for himself._

"Okay, listen,"

"Ah, shh-shh-shh!" _Woah, calm down there._

"What have you got?" Dad questioned him, once he closed the door behind him.

"The Holy Grail," Lester revealed eagerly. "The Union Depository. Now, they say it cannot be hit. Hasn't been, yet,"

"Look," Michael responded. "I just owe a Mexican a couple of million bucks 'cause I wrecked his girlfriend's house, I don't need to go crazy here,"

"Which Mexican?"

"Martin Madrazo,"

"He's not supposed to be very nice," Lester remarked. _Consider yourself lucky that you haven't met him._

"Oh," My adopted father scoffed sarcastically. "When Ryan and I met him, he was _charming,_"

His friend gave an amused chuckle, and cue Michael to change the subject with: "So, what do you think?"

"Oh, erm, let's see," Lester pondered. "Either we hit a bank in the sticks, or we do a store. Which do you like?"

"Well," Dad sighed. "A store's usually easier, but I gotta make a big take,"

"Well, gems it is, then. Let's go to Vangelico, buy ourselves an engagement ring," Lester decided, heading for the office door - only to be stopped by Michael. "We're gonna need a crew, I can round up some of the old guys? Plus, I believe we have our first member on board already,"

"Who?" _And, that's my cue._

"I think he means me," I made my presence known, earning a slightly dumbfounded glower from Lester. _Oh dear. _"Are you okay?"

Cue him to snap out of it. "_Oh,_ _y-yes._ I apologise, Ryan, you caught me by surprise there; grown up right before our very eyes,"

"I know," I smiled politely, mere seconds before Michael decided to interrupt. "So? How about it?"

"There are no old guys," Lester told him. "Moses, ironically, found Jesus. All those Irish crazies, they mostly just disappeared. That crew from the south, they all went down," A split second pause. "There was a, an eastern European guy making moves in Liberty City, but, nah, he went quiet,"

"Alright. Well, we're gonna need a crew," Michael said, as he and I followed Lester out of the office and emerged back outside. "You got any contacts in LS or not?"

"I've been working with someone, but they're too unpredictable," My acquaintance answered. _Maybe, that's a good thing? _"I'll have to reach out to some other guys,"

_Once the three of us climbed into the Tailgater, off we went to Little Portola._

"Your FIB buddies," Lester addressed Michael. "They, uh, know you're back in business?"

"FIB buddies?" Dad questioned, slightly on edge. "What are you talking about?"

"I checked out the WPP thing," My acquaintance proceeded to explain. "It doesn't look like any WitSec program I'm aware of. For starters, they don't put witnesses up in multi million dollar mansions in Rockford Hills with a child who has been adopted without her biological parents' consent,"

_Excuse me?!_

"Maybe they thought this was the best cover and maybe it's because that they're aware that her parents are both deceased?"

"And most witnesses don't transfer five-figure sums into a particular FIB agent's bank account every month. Of course, the money gets moved around and washed through a number of fronts, but the trail is there. Deposits and withdrawals. The same sum. Every month. Agent Dave Norton. White middle-aged divorcee. Unremarkable career, except for one incident: the shooting of a notorious stick up man, Michael Townley,"

"_Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,_ alright!" Michael interrupted sarcastically. "Lester, I'm _very_ impressed,"

_What did I just hear?! That doesn't make any bl**dy sense!_

"Look, we can talk about this another time," Lester decided to change the subject, passing a pair of rather large glasses over. "Take these glasses,"

"My eyesight's fine!" Michael protested.

Hearing this, Lester fought back an annoyed sigh. "They're fitted with a camera and a radio relay. I'm going to run the operation from the car, whilst you're in the store - getting what we need,"

"What about me?" I questioned curiously, as Dad soon pulled the car to a stop outside a fancy area. _This must be the place._ "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You just sit tight with Lester for now," He told me, stepping out with his glasses in hand. "I won't be long, okay?"

"Alright,"

With that, Michael left us to it and disappeared round the corner. _And so, the work begins._

"You reading me?" Lester asked him.

"_Mmhmm,_" Dad spoke through the other end of... I guessed a phone, maybe? _I'm probably wrong, but who knows?_

"Okay, we need shots of the security features; the alarm system, ventilation, cameras. The alarm keypad is on the left when you come in, on the wall by the side door,"

"_Got it,_"

"Glasses are live. Shoot away," A couple of seconds later, and... "Shot's come through. Camera, check. Alarm, check. Vents, check. Good work. Now, speak to the assistant and see if there's anything else we need to know,"

Whatever device Lester was in charge of appeared to have some kind of speaker phone thingy, because it didn't take very long for Michael to strike up a conversation with a woman. "_Hey, beautiful. I need to pick up a little something for the woman in my life - well, one of them,_" _Woah, a bit flirty today._

"_Sir, I'm sure we can help you. Tell me about her, what's her taste?_"

"_Cheap, thank god. This ain't my wife we're talking_ _about,_" A chuckle. "_I don't know. I don't want to spend too much. I'm thinking maybe, ten grand?_"

"_Our rings start at eight, our pendants start at twelve,_"

"_Alright. So these things built to last, or am I just paying for the Vangelico logo here?_"

"_Ah no, no, no, no. We use perfect clarity jewels; eighteen carat gold, nine fifty platinum. Nothing, but the best,_"

"_Alright, I think you just made a sale. I'm gonna take a look around, think about it, come back to you, baby. Don't go anywhere,_"

"_I understand,_"

_He must be done there, I'm assuming?_

"Come back to me," Lester telling Michael confirmed my suspicions. _Okay, we're getting somewhere._

"_So, we good?_"

"Almost. I need to get eyes on the roof of the building, see where the ventilation comes out," He revealed, as Dad came round the corner and rejoined us. _Hey there!_

"Drive us around the block," My acquaintance then told him, before we went off driving again. "We got to find a way up to the roof,"

"Makes sense," I commented.

To my surprise, it only took a matter of seconds for the three of us to spot a small construction site nearby. _Bingo! _Cue Michael to stop the car and rince, repeat with the investigation.

"_So, you keep up with the old crew?_"

"Well, after your death slash disappearance, there wasn't much holding us together,"

"_Yeah. You see him at all? After the incident?_"

Now, I'm going to have to interrupt there - because what happened next _was...!_ Let's just say, _that...!_ That it allowed me to piece a lot of things together.

"I kept tabs on him for a while, needed to know that he didn't blame me,"

"_Yeah, where'd he go?_" Michael kept the questions going with a considerable amount of hidden anger and fear, most likely directed at the person they were referring to. _Who is this guy?_

"North. South. East. West. Wherever there were liquor stores to turn over, and hitchhikers to disappear," Lester then cautiously asked a question, which caught my attention. "D-Does _she_ know?"

"_No, she doesn't. And I intend to keep it that way, so she's safe,_"

That was a _major_ hint and before I knew what was happening, my anxiety was slowly beginning to racket. _They're... They're not talking about me, are they?_

Then, it hit me.

Michael avoiding me all these years and not telling me why, his comment that I was terrifying, his anxiety when he told me about my biological parents and when Jimmy mentioned his fake death, him _constantly_ dampening Trevor's image, the fear visible in his eyes after his phone call with Lester and _now—_

_T-T-Trevor's...!_

_Trevor's alive, isn't he?!_

I was in complete and _utter shock_. Looking back, this was another moment where I felt like I had been violently socked in the chest and the pain just... _wouldn't_ stop throbbing. My breathing had glitched too, and there was no way I could stop my left hand from trembling - even when I clenched it into a tiny fist to try and calm myself down! _Trevor wouldn't...!_ Trevor wouldn't hurt me, would he? _No, no,_ he wouldn't _\- so...! Why would Michael take me away from him and Mom, just because he was **scared** of him?! Also, what did Dad ever do to him?!_

I don't think I could have brought myself to speak after that, because my mind was in _too many_ negative places at once - yet again. Even when Michael returned and we drove back to the factory, I couldn't speak - due to my mental struggle to hold myself together for the incoming heist. It was only when the three of us exited the car, that my adopted father noticed my distressed state.

"Ryan, you okay there?" _Oh no...!_ "You look spooked,"

"_O-Oh_, um, yeah, I'm alright," I stammered briefly, whilst calming myself down. "Do you guys mind if I could hang out here, whilst you're planning everything? I think I might need a minute,"

Michael and Lester both exchanged a concerned look, before the former replied: "No, I don't mind. I'll let you know what the plan is, okay?"

"Yeah, sure,"

With that, the two of them entered the building _and..._ and I was left in a stunned but relieved silence. _Thank god I have a minute to myself. _Only... I didn't realise that my walls were crumbling by the second. I found myself quietly inhaling and exhaling to calm myself down and violently shaking in terror. The final straw went to a _deep_ pain surging in my stomach and my throat turning hoarse, thanks to my now glitched breathing.

_Then, I just...!_ Then, I just broke down in tears...! _Why did you lie to me and take me away?!_

_WHY?!_


	7. Chapter 7: Anxiety - The Long Stretch

**Author's Note:**

**Hi everyone, apologies for the long wait. :( I hope you're all doing well and whilst this chapter may be a bit short, I hope it'll be worth the wait and that you guys enjoy. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Anxiety - The Long Stretch**

I honestly felt like I was going to be sick.

Normally with negative situations, I would tell myself to remain calm and that I would figure out how to handle them eventually - but _this...!_ This was one of the few times where I felt absolutely helpless. I had _no clue_ how I was supposed to move forward, knowing that I had essentially suffered from Stockholm Syndrome for most of my life. I mean, I suppose I did have options but I wasn't sure if any of them would work out:

1\. I couldn't bring myself to confront Michael, because I _knew_ that if I did - he'd tell me that I was overreacting and to let it go.

2\. I couldn't talk to Amanda, Tracey and Jimmy - because that would risk another screaming match with Michael and that was the _last_ thing I wanted.

3\. I couldn't talk to Franklin or Lester - because I had just met them and plus, my situation would get in the way.

_Apart from those ideas, I didn't know what else to do. _

On the bright side, though - I was thankful that the pain in my stomach had faded, which led to me presuming that I wasn't going to be sick after all. _Oh, thank god for that. _With that in mind, I decided to sit down on the steps outside the factory and tried to take deep breaths to calm down - whilst reassuring myself that I would be able to move on someday. _Everything's gonna be okay, Ryan - you're gonna be fine. Just get the heist over and done with, and we'll go from there. __Take each day as it comes, like you've done so already - it's all good...!_

"Hey, I'm back," Michael's pleased voice snapped me out of my thoughts. _Oh, damn you!_

"Hey," I greeted as politely as I could muster, pulling myself up to my feet. _Don't you dare humiliate yourself, Ryan. _"Did you guys come up with a plan for the heist?"

"Y'know as a matter of fact, we did," He confirmed in a pleased manner, venturing for his car and climbing in. "C'mon, I'll tell you on the way home,"

"Okay," I replied, following suit. Once he started it up and began driving, he continued speaking. "Just to be clear - this is the only heist you're doing, right?"

"That's what I'm planning, yes," I answered, frowning. "Why do you ask?"

"I just wanted to make sure," My adopted father told me, visibly relieved. _What's going on with you? _"Anyway, the plan Lester and I came up with is actually quite simple. We're gonna throw some gas grenades in the ventilator, so everyone will get to have a little nap. Once that happens, that's our cue to head in and grab all the jewellery we can get,"

Hearing this, I slowly nodded with intrigue. _Okay, not what I was expecting - but still, that sounds smart. _"Okay, may I ask what my part is?"

"You just have to grab as much jewellery as you can, that's it," Michael explained. "Easy and you don't have to worry about fighting any cops," _Thanks for reminding me that I need to take up boxing lessons again._

"I see," I responded, suddenly realising that my anxiety over Trevor was flashing again ... and my adoptive father _noticed_. _Oh no, no, no, no, no, no!_

"Is there something on your mind, Ryan?" He questioned worriedly.

I sighed. _Right, it's better to be upfront. Here goes Option 1. _"Yeah. I, um, I'm not sure how to say this, _but...!_" A nervous gulp. "But when you and Lester were talking about a He and a She earlier, was that referring to Trevor and myself?"

Michael glowered with surprise. "Er, _w-w-_where did you get that idea from?"

"The way you've treated me for the past nine years, how you faked your death with that FIB agent and how you dampen Trevor's image," I revealed honestly. "Which leads to my next two questions. Is Trevor alive and if he _is_, why did you take me away from him and my Mom?"

For several seconds, a horrified grimace painted the man's face. _I got him. _I didn't hesitate to calmly prompt him. "I don't want this to turn into a fight - so whatever it is, just tell me," He just kept silent, which didn't help calm my anxiety. "_Please,_"

_Tell me the truth...! Please, for the love of god, be honest with me!_

My adoptive father _finally_ broke the silence. "Ryan, you've been under a lot of stress recently," A sad and mildly irritated sigh. "I know you wish things were different and _I_ wish they were different, too - but they're _not_, okay? Do you have any more questions?"

"No," I confirmed cautiously, flashing an apologetic yet fearful glance. "Sorry,"

"It's alright," He reassured me with a smile, feeling more at ease. "By the way, we're planning for the heist to go ahead first thing, tomorrow - just so you know,"

"Okay, no problem,"

Whilst Michael continued driving, I turned my head to glance out my window and watch the city whizz by. Despite what he told me, I was still suspicious - judging from the horrified look I managed to catch _and_... looking back, I _actually_ wish I had the confidence to stand up to him and continue asking about what happened, nine years back. Yes, that would have risked a fight - but at least, I probably would have gotten the truth out of him a lot sooner.

_Maybe things would have turned out differently, if I did?_


End file.
